


Lady Sisyphus

by wisteriawall



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Canon - Manga, Canon Compliant, Childhood Friends, Coming of Age, Crushes, Developing Friendships, F/M, Family Secrets, Flashbacks, Gen, Growing Up, Historical Accuracy, Historical References, Inspired by Poetry, One Shot, Pre-Canon, Prequel, Secret Identity, Secrets, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27074590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisteriawall/pseuds/wisteriawall
Summary: Lizzy Midford visits the Phantomhive residence and spends the downtime of a chess game daydreaming about what was, what had happened, and what could be.
Relationships: Elizabeth Midford/Ciel Phantomhive, Real Ciel Phantomhive/Elizabeth Midford
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	Lady Sisyphus

**Author's Note:**

> Before reading, note in your mind now that I will not be making any references to the ship sebaciel. If that is your personal ship preference, go ahead and skip this one, and kindly skip leaving hate comments about my refusal to include it.

Elizabeth Midford had always been a gem of a child, the crown jewel of the Midford Marquessate. She minded her English, mathematics, and French tutors; enjoyed her dance tutor; and tolerated the woman who had come through to instruct her in all things musical. All marks of a proper lady, enhanced by her continuously perfect performance across every subject. 

It was a trait passed down matrilineally. That wasn’t to say that Alexis Midford was a man without significant achievements, far from it. He was the result of a long line of immaculate breeding, taking over the Order of the Garter before he had reached twenty years of age. Then again, it was Francis Phantomhive who toppled him when no one else could. Edward, too, was a young man of many talents. Still, it was he who found himself so often with an epeé’s ball-point pressed to his chest, his little sister at the handle.

Francis was a woman of great discipline, preparing through adolescence for a tumultuous adulthood. She, too, excelled in every class given to her, mastering both the feminine arts and the more traditionally masculine talents of academics and the sword. These were things passed down to both children, though no one felt the pressure so much as little Elizabeth, the bright rose of a family shrouded in mystery. 

It was a shame that people of the feminine persuasion could not head the peerage, or else it would be the Midford women doing so.

However, for a little girl so sure of herself in many ways, there were talents that she was sure that she would never master. The most pressing example being her inability to retain the attention of her dearest friend. It sometimes felt like a slight against her very personhood, being ignored by someone who would be her husband in a few short years. Her parents had married when her father was no more than eighteen after falling into the deepest love that she had ever had the pleasure of witnessing. And now she, thirteen, had concluded that all was hopeless and that there was no helping her in these acts to persuade Ciel into loving her. Of course, some of this mindset was due to the naivety of adolescence.

Her afternoon was set up for a visit to the Phantomhive Manor. Of course, the meeting would be chaperoned by both his butler, Sebastian, and her maid, Paula. Despite being children, there were strict rules to adhere to when it came to being nobles, and nobles in a betrothal, at that. 

“So cute!” An exclamation from the girl, who still danced around the ornate room in nothing but her shift and stockings. Feet patted against the plush rug as she spun, a pale blue frock held to her chest. An outfit had to be picked for the afternoon, one that would catch Ciel’s attention and perhaps even draw out a compliment. 

Paula, a woman accustomed to Elizabeth’s bounciness, watched on fondly as the childish expressions of joy continued. It was always nice to see her genuinely excited, those days came less and less nowadays. 

“Is that what you want to wear, Lady Elizabeth?” Paula asked. 

“Yes, it’s absolutely perfect, isn’t it? We got those powder blue shoes last week, do you remember them? Those will match nicely,” Elizabeth replied, dress tossed onto her bed with a flutter of ruffles. 

“I agree, my lady,” she said, hands gentle as possible while she hooked a corset around the younger girl’s body, lacing in the ribbons to pull them tight, which earned a small gasp. “I recall a set of bows in that same shade that we could tie your hair up with.”

“You’re a genius, Paula! What would I do without you?”

“I’m sure you would manage,” the words aren’t spoken with spite, but rather warmth. The bond between them was sisterly at that point, if still with the clear power dynamic.

They worked, and Paula wanted nothing more than to see her lady happy. Elizabeth, in turn, worked to see her through as well. Lacking an older sibling for much of the year while Edward went to school, Paula had taken up the role with ease. Secrets were shared from both sides, Elizabeth had many times shared a bed with her after a night of storytelling, and she often supplemented Paula’s pay with gifts. Be it a night off, tickets to see a play, or just an offered sweet, it was a relationship that both found pleasure in, even if they both knew the other would be able to make it by on their own. They didn’t want to, though, and so they maintained their fierce loyalty.

The decorations are set in place. Petticoats in their layers and that pair of robin’s egg shoes, embroidered with small flowers swirling across the material. What was odd about the shoes, though, was not the exquisite detailing. The length of the heel was hardly raised above the ground, wide and flat despite growing in age. Her hemlines may have dropped by another inch over the past year or so, but her shoes would not signify the changes of a young woman. Next to Ciel, she would do her best to appear as the younger of the two despite her slight seniority. They set off for the manor.

Once she and Paula arrived, they’re ushered in by the pitch-black butler with those crimson eyes. Elizabeth had always felt uneasy around him, it never made sense how Ciel had come home with the impossibly powerful man in tow just after the fire. “He must have had something to do with it,” she’d once whispered to Paula after she had seen Sebastian do the work of ten men by himself. The Midford Estate was always staffed with talented servants of all ranks, so how was it that the Phantomhives only needed three (nearly incompetent) lower-ranking servants, Tanaka, and Sebastian? Elizabeth didn’t claim to be particularly intelligent at the best of times, but that arrangement didn’t make sense. 

She sat in a parlor, hands rested in her lap, Paula standing off to the side. Her foot tapped rhythmically, anxiety surging through her while she awaited Ciel’s arrival. She had been promised by Sebastian— it would only be a short wait, he had to finish his days work so that the rest could be devoted to her without distraction. That would be lovely, she’d responded. 

It would be a calm interaction, she put effort into preparing that. However, with the pressure put on herself, the tapping of her foot grew in intensity, begging for an outlet. It was almost painful, too much to bear when—

“Cieeelll!”

The door to the parlor opened, and she rushed to meet her fiancé, arms wrapped around his neck. 

“Hello, Lizzy,” greeted the stoic little boy once he recovered from the shock of her powerful embrace. Even if he didn’t return the hug, he hadn’t asked her to let go, so it was a step up. 

“I’ve missed you so! It’s been nearly a week, my darling boy, where have you been?” She asked as her arms returned to her sides. 

“It’s been a very busy week,” he told her, stingy as ever with details, “I haven’t had time to—“

“You could call me, silly! We had a telephone installed in our home, you know. So that Father could speak with the Queen.”

“Did you, Elizabeth? I’m sure that Uncle Alexis wouldn’t take too kindly to an occupied telephone if the Queen were to call.”

She huffed. He was probably right, and his insistence seemed to be made clear by the dropping of her nickname. They sat in armchairs opposite each other, falling into a game of chess when he had suggested they do something to pass the time. As it always was, they grew silent as Elizabeth prepared herself for the inevitable loss. Oh, how the tides had turned in a matter of years.

Ciel, at one time, had been her closest friend and confidant, closely followed by the twin, who she sometimes felt was the only other person in the world who understood her. They were birds of a feather, even if she didn’t always know how to interact with him. They were both second children. Disposable, lacking a title to grow into. She did envy him in one important way, though. The twin would never know what it was like to have his life signed away at birth to another infant. He would be free come adulthood even if he was missing out on the perks of being a part of the peerage.

It was her fiancé, though, that she had shared secrets with. However, upon the age that they were consciously aware of their planned fate, an odd dynamic pushed them further and further apart. Ever since the accident, it was as if walls were erected between them, cutting every tie they had once shared. He wouldn’t mention their shared memories or entertain her long-winded desires that had once been conversations, now doomed to soliloquy.

One such memory that rang clear on the mind was that of her first kiss. She was ten, Ciel was nine, and it was a planned event. 

They would play hide and seek, always a good activity with homes so vast. Not to mention, the twin would be involved too when he felt his best. Not that day, though, as nerves ran high. They had dressed in their finest play clothes, having discussed doing so on a previous outing. At a party the week before, the spying children had caught a tender moment between Rachel and Vincent, a chaste kiss shared between lovers in what they believed was a private moment. That was, as they knew, an act between husband and wife.

As a pairing that would eventually be married too, it only seemed right to share such treasured moments now. ‘Fiancé’ was the word of the year, the age at which discussing their arrangements had finally felt a touch more natural. There were never any pet names, though. They were Ciel and Lizzy, and that was all. Any more still felt far too grown up for the likes of them, despite both being in the midst of constant training to assume the peerage and to be a good wife, respectively. Both underwent training with the sword, too, but Ciel didn’t have to know that. 

The kiss was brief. It was no more than a moment’s peck shared at Elizabeth’s hiding spot behind a rose bush. With cheeks red enough to match the early summer blooms, they swore themselves to secrecy. 

Now, just three years later, it seemed like he had decided that the secret would be kept from her, too. One step forward, two steps back. However much of it was the incident (including his subsequent disappearance and the new butler) and how much of it was the awkwardness of adolescence, she wasn’t quite sure. Whatever the case, they seemed doomed to wander this middle ground of comfortably casual and painfully stiff forever. Her mind must have been wandering, too, hands automatically moving pieces across the board, because the first thing that she heard after snapping back to reality was Ciel’s voice. 

“Checkmate, Lizzy,” the tone is cool and calculated. The way he focused on these games was always admirable, a skill that few would ever match. The smirk on his lips, too, which carried up to his exposed eye, caused a rush of butterflies in her stomach. 

A checkmate it was. At that moment Elizabeth concluded that she was Sisyphus, toiling away at her hill towards Him at the summit. All she could hope was that someday, the Devil might allow her to complete this seemingly endless task. 

One step forwards, two steps back. Again and again for the rest of eternity.


End file.
